Papers
by akuryounoseiki
Summary: Both Shinigami's have a strong affection towards one another...yet they are unable to tell the other their true feelings. Basic TsuzukiHisoka flangst. Oneshot.


This is my first Yami no Matsuei fic, so I sincerly apologize for any OOCness I may have bestowed upon Tsuzuki and Hisoka.

Disclaimer: ...Is there really need for one?

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Filing papers.

What filing papers really had to do with the overall benefit of working in JuOhCho, Hisoka didn't know-not that it troubled him, but it was tedious work nonetheless. His hands were tired and bored from sifting through un-intriguing sheets of paper, only to put them away in equally insipid file cabinets. Repetitive would have been another good way to describe it...as were the careless paper cuts that stung blatantly into Hisoka's consciousness, piteously brining him to focus on the task at hand.

The said boy abruptly ceased the monotonous paper filing as an edge of paper cut indifferently into his skin. Hisoka glared at his bleeding finger before promptly sucking on it in an attempt to ease the sharp, now familiar, pain. He was getting tired, and as if to confirm it, glanced meaningfully at the clock on the wall. Yes-it was surly almost time to go.

"Tsuzuki..." he muttered, starting slightly at the sound of his voice cutting through the heavy silence, "are you done yet?"

From across the stiflingly tiny room in his chair, Tsuzuki didn't anything, but it perturbed Hisoka slightly. The dark haired Shinigami had said barly a word during their time together pouring over papers to be filed. It was oddly unusual for his partner to be so quiet. There hadn't even been the usual whining about breaks and food. Hisoka's brows furrowed at the musings of Tsuzuki's silence as he simply sat there, unconscious of the stack of paper he was going through.

He looked...sad? Hisoka turned more towards him, his cut finger forgotten.

"Tsuzuki." he said again, and this time the latter mentioned man heard. Tsuzuki blinked, obviously clearing his mind of his current thoughts and he smiled at his partner, despite the emotionless, if not sad, face he had on moments ago.

"Sorry, " he grinned apologetically, "did you say something, Hisoka?"

The said boy stared unblinkingly at his fellow Shinigami, "I asked you if you were done yet." he said in a scolding tone. Tsuzuki continued to look at Hisoka before glancing down at the immense stack of papers nest to him. He rubbed the back of his head in a would be nonchalant manner.

"Almost, Hisoka."

Hisoka's gaze continued to linger on Tsuzuki. Something wasn't right with him; he could feel it...and it was somehow obvious, too, despite his sensitive empathic powers. Hisoka shoved his hands uncomfortably into his pockets and glanced at the floor, a slight blush creeping across his pale complexion.

"Something wrong, Tsuzuki?" his gaze flickered back up to his partner, whose characteristic grin faltered only for a second.

"Of course not," he turned his attention to the stack of papers beside him, looking now unmistakably sad to Hisoka. The said boy rolled his eyes, taking up his all-too-familiar arrogant posture in habit.

"Idiot," he muttered, "I'm not stupid; tell me what's wrong."

He could see Tsuzuki's internal struggle with himself. How conflicted he looked. But then there was that smile again, however, his amethyst eyes betrayed his outward motives. It annoyed Hisoka that Tsuzuki wasn't telling him something.

"Honestly, Hisoka, I'm fine. Just a little tired."

"No you're not."

"I didn't know you cared so much."

This time a hot blush spread across Hisoka's face as the comment caught him off-guard. He made away from the filing cabinets, crossing his arms tensely.

"Don't be stupid, "he said looking pointedly away, "you know I..." but he found it difficult to end what he was going to say, and Tsuzuki's amethyst stare was unnerving, "I...I'm going out now. I'm tired."

He made a move for the door, but Tsuzuki's hand shot out and grabbed his arm, pulling him back. Hisoka flinched, willing his empathic powers to stay at bay lest he be overwhelmed. He yielded to Tsuzuki's firm grip and stared at the Shinigami, an imploring look on his face.

"Tsuzuki, what's the—"

"Do you really care, Hisoka?" Tsuzuki asked softly, the obviously fake smile disappearing as it was replaced with a look of beseechment. Hisoka's eyes widened at his confirmation that something was seriously amiss with his partner. Tsuzuki's hand was still tightly clamped around his arm, and it was beginning to hurt. The fair-haired boy knelt down in front of his partner.

"Tsuzuki…" he muttered, that uncomfortable blush creeping up on him again, "What's the matter? There's something wrong with y—"

"Answer me, Hisoka."

When had they gotten so close? Hisoka fidgeted uncomfortably at the closeness, but didn't make a move to distance himself. He could see himself reflected in the deep purple of his partner's eyes. He looked confused, but Hisoka didn't really know why he should be. It was a simple question that Tsuzuki obviously desired the answer to. He blinked.

"Tsuzuki…yes, I do, " he said, struggling for more eloquent words, "don't…don't you…Why would you doubt that." He spoke as if he was annoyed, and he was in a sense. Was that all Tsuzuki was upset about? But it couldn't be…that would be silly. But then…it _was_ Tsuzuki.

Tsuzuki smiled and glanced away, but, dammit, he still looked discontented.

"I…I guess you're right. But, it's so hard to tell with you sometimes…Hisoka." At the whispered mention of his name, the dark haired Shinigami released Hisoka's arm only to softly caress the side of his face with trembling fingers. Yet again, he blushed horribly and on empathic instinct, he habitually pulled away—but he regretted it, and Hisoka was surprised by his remorse.

"Sorry..!" Tsuzuki quickly apologized, and snatched his hand away. But now his look was the epitome of misery as he gazed at some irrelevant spot on the floor. Hisoka's mind screamed at him for making Tsuzuki take his actions the wrong way.

"No- Tsuzuki—I didn't mean it like that—" and he made a desperate snatch at Tsuzuki's hand, "—But what is wrong with—"

Hisoka's green eyes widened with shock as the figure in front of him suddenly leaned in, closing the already short distance between them. His eyes roamed Hisoka's alabaster face, eventually settling on the brilliant green of his eyes.

"You told me to stay because you would be here for me. Because…because you were lonely."

Memories of that unforgettable night flooded into Hisoka's mind. Oh…how could he ever forget that night?

"Tsuzuki…" he whispered, but he didn't know what else to say, what else would matter. It had somehow clicked into place, "Tsuzuki, you don't…you don't…" he stuttered, but it suddenly didn't matter as Tsuzuki pressed his lips against the supple ones of his partner. Hisoka froze; he was frozen, rooted to the spot, simply not knowing how to respond to Tsuzuki's pleading, desperate, kiss. His guard slipped away, and his empathic senses brushed against Tsuzuki. Hisoka felt his chest tighten, and he made a grab for Tsuzuki's hand, although he didn't know why, as the overwhelming feeling of reckless warmth overtook him.

"Tsuzuki, you…" he breathed against his partners lips, simply unable to pull away, "you…love me?"

Hisoka wrenched his emphatic senses away from Tsuzuki's overpowering passion. The room came sharply back into focus, but the fair-haired boy hardly noticed it as he stared hopelessly at his partner. A bead of sweat slid down the side of his face.

"Tsuzuki?" he said faintly, desperately. The said Shinigami stared helplessly at Hisoka, his face soft and sadly forgiving—almost apologetic. Hisoka shook his head.

"But…why? Tsuzuki I…I can't…don't know how…, " he was shaking, his voice flustered and helpless. Tsuzuki smiled warmly at him.

"How can you ask someone the reason for loving them?"

"And that's why you were so miserable all this time?" Hisoka snapped, although still unsettled and shaking, "because you…you…"

But Tsuzuki only smiled sadly.

"Isn't it understandable?" he asked softly. The dark haired Shinigami's hand tensed and Hisoka continued to stare helplessly.

"But I, " he stuttered, trembling, "I can't…I don't know how…"

Memories plagued his mind of that awful night…that awful night when his insomnia ultimately tore apart his life unto his death. He shivered as seductive visions of that man…Muraki violently tearing away any shred of innocence he had still possessed. His screams echoed in his head, reminding him of what he was today.

"Hisoka," Tsuzuki grabbed his partner's shoulders.

"I can't love you. I don't know how." It came out in a rush, and Hisoka slumped foreword, yielding to Tsuzuki's firm grip. His eyes fell to the floor, and a wretched sinking sensation settled over Hisoka. He struggled with himself in that he simply did not know how to…feel, ironically, or to open up. Or to love someone. He blamed Muraki. All because of him, not to mention his less than loving upbringing. It couldn't be his fault.

But he remembered that day when Tsuzuki was almost consumed by the suicidal flames he had conjured…he had opened up to him, had flung his desperate arms longingly around Tsuzuki's neck. Oh…he had so frantically wanted Tsuzuki then…had wanted him to come back to him. And as Tsuzuki has timidly put his arms around his pleading form, Hisoka had never felt so complete.

He swallowed.

Tsuzuki's grip on his shoulder lessened but he did not let go.

"Hisoka, " he said softly, and without warning the said boy launched himself into Tsuzuki's arms, a brokenhearted sob working its way past Hisoka's lips as he tightly coiled his fingers into the loose collar of Tsuzuki's shirt. Tsuzuki froze before wrapping his arms protectively around the torn boy in his arms.

"I-I…Tsuzuki, I _want_ to…but I can't, I…"

"You can't or you won't."

Hisoka pulled away to register a haughty glare at his partner albeit the hint of tears. But he would never admit that there were tears.

"Idiot, " he snapped, more so out of habit, "You know that I…" his resentment trailed off, and Tsuzuki grinned. He fingered away a strand of flaxen hair obscuring Hisoka's view. The said boy glanced at the floor, uncoiling his fingers from Tsuzuki's shirt.

He wanted to love him. But it was so difficult for him to tell Tsuzuki that. So hard.

Tsuzuki cupped the side of Hisoka's face, bringing the said boy to look at him and this time Hisoka didn't flinch.

But then suddenly…Hisoka didn't need to say that he truly wanted to love Tsuzuki as a look of sheer understanding and compassion passed through them. Tsuzuki had been stalked by Muraki…there was that understanding. But he would never really understand…not really. Needless, as the dark haired Shinigami before him continued to toy with his hair…Hisoka felt that he truly did want to understand…and did.

"Tsuzuki, I—" Hisoka began, but Tsuzuki silenced him, quieting his lips with his nimble fingers. Tsuzuki smiled tenderly.

"I know, Hisoka." He said simply, " I know." And at that pulled Hisoka into a passionate embrace, the paperwork and everything around them forgotten.

At least for a little while.

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So yes. First YnM fic. Reviews are appreciated. Thanks for reading :)


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